


Queen

by n7chelle



Category: Captain America (Movies), Dragonriders of Pern - Anne McCaffrey, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Impression (Dragonriders of Pern), Pre-Serum Steve Rogers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-26
Updated: 2018-07-26
Packaged: 2019-06-16 05:44:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15430260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/n7chelle/pseuds/n7chelle
Summary: Steve knows he has what it takes to be a dragonrider. He's finally made it to the Hatching Ground, and he's not leaving without a partner, whatever the color of their scales.





	Queen

**Author's Note:**

> Playing a bit fast and loose with Anne McCaffery’s Dragonriders lore, and borrowing characters from the MCU.

Steve’s first steps on the raised Hatching Ground sands warm the bottom of his sandals uncomfortably, hastening him onto one of the the square stones arranged in a large half-circle around the clutch of mottled eggs. The ancient stone plinths are incongruously cool, and his feet naturally slip into depressions weathered into the rock by centuries of other men and women. These stones were laid by the original dragonriders, before the first Holds were founded, before the mountains were hollowed out for the first Weyr. He can feel the vibrations of the dragons’ low hum resonating with the stone, sending a strange tingling into his bones. It’s surprisingly pleasant, almost calming.

Candidates press in close on either side; to Steve’s left is the young man with close-shorn brown hair and beady eyes. His name is Hodge, Steve remembers. Weyrbred born and raised, and one of the favorites, too. He feels like a child beside Hodge, a boy just barely out of childhood but already broad-shouldered and towering over Steve, a man at least ten years his senior. A slender young woman with thick, golden waves spilling down her back stands at Steve’s right, her pretty features pinched and severe with concentration. He wonders how she was sorted into the pool of general candidates rather than the much smaller ring of women and girls gathered around the trio of golden eggs behind them.

As if on cue, the dragons’ hum intensifies just as a crack splits across the shell of a nearby egg. Steve feels himself flinch, and notes with no small amount of satisfaction that his weyrbred neighbor is trembling faintly as well. He hears another crunch of broken shell from behind, followed by a shriek of newborn lungs and an answering rumble of approval from the dragons–the first queen has been born. It’s as if the swell of noise from their kin summoned forth the hatchlings, for suddenly the grounds are full of scales glistening in bronze and green and brown and blue, speckled here and there with remnants of shell. They’re lurching, ungainly creatures, stumbling against each other, picking their way through the wreckage of broken and yet-unbroken eggs, but there’s no doubt in Steve’s mind that it’s the most beautiful sight he’s ever seen. Only the ringing memory of Weyrleader Philips in his ears keeps his feet planted firmly on the stones; the dragons make their choice, and if chosen they’ll come to him.

Another decisive crack from behind splits the air, but Steve hasn’t been paying attention to whether it's the second or third queen’s egg. All his attention is on the clutch in front of him—and the dwindling number of un-impressed hatchlings, which have steadily made their way out from the center and paired off with many a teary-eyed young man or woman. Steve feels his breath catch as a lone brown struggles in his direction, crooning and chirping as it hops across the uneven sand. For a moment, he feels the hatchling’s gaze upon him, pinning him on the spot, and a wave of heat prickles over his skin—

In the next moment, the brown lets out a delighted trill and launches itself at the woman beside him. Steve shrinks away on instinct, but the fledgling’s razor-sharp wingtip catches him anyway, leaving two streaks of crimson and searing pain across his shoulder. Steve lets hot tears fall when they come, unable to stem the tide of disappointment that wells up from within at the rejection. The physical pain barely registers by comparison. His only comfort is that he’s not alone in his failure. No dragon has chosen Hodge either. 

Stumbling away from the blonde woman and her brown partner leaves Steve facing the circle of weyrwoman candidates. All three eggs have hatched, but only two have Impressed. Their third sister, a frighteningly large beast for a hatchling, tears wildly about the grounds, scattering golden shards and trumpeting fiercely with her tiny lungs at her would-be partners. The circle has bowed oddly in certain places, where it appears the remaining women and girls have been driven back in fear, though none appear injured. Steve loses sight of the infant queen as she descends from the small summit upon which the eggs had been laid, disappearing towards the far side of the grounds. Voices raise in alarm—a spray of golden shells kicks up as the third queen dashes back across the raised center and charges the near side of the ring. The candidates closest to Steve are all smaller, younger girls, and he’s not surprised to see them scatter like the broken egg shells as the queen darts forward, shrieking wildly. 

For a moment Steve’s eyes flick away to track the girls, protective instincts warring against weyr tradition—no one has ever been seriously injured by a hatchling, but this violent little queen is certainly intimidating—and the next second finds him on the ground, the vaulted stone ceiling swimming overhead. His vision fills with a swirling, burning, endless rainbow of color…

_My name_ , says the voice in his head,  _is Sciath._

**Author's Note:**

> Sciath is Irish (Gaeilge) for "shield". :) 
> 
> I've got more ideas for this AU, like weyrwoman Peggy taking Steve under her wing (pun intended), wingleader Bucky and his bronze (Soldath), a _between_ times plot to match the Big Freeze, etc, etc...but I dunno if I'll ever get around to actually writing them.


End file.
